


It Started with a Spider

by Avenging_is_My_Day_Job



Series: MCU Reader Fics [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, F/M, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9805517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenging_is_My_Day_Job/pseuds/Avenging_is_My_Day_Job





	

 

You were a _superhero_ , damnit. With _superpowers_.

You did not appreciate something so insignificant eliciting such a startled response from you. The most _undignified_ shriek to grace the halls of the team headquarters.

To top it all off, you were in a bath towel, and fresh out of a relaxing shower. And the most recent addition to your merry band of misfits, Bucky Barnes, was standing in the doorway of your bathroom, completely unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

Your eyes darted to the offender, a brown recluse spider lounging smugly on the counter, right beside your comb. Bucky followed your gaze, and without so much as a joke at your expense, squished the arachnid under a tissue and carried it from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You only took a few seconds to process this before you returned to your after-shower routine, sliding the comb away from where the spider had been mocking you, and ran it through your wet hair. 

* * *

A little while later, perhaps a few days at the most, the dishwasher was full, so was the sink, a not one person moved to resolve the issue. 

“I’m going to start leaving dirty dishes in your beds.” You threatened, half seriously, to a room full of groggy Avengers. 

The dishwasher was easy. Just put the soap in and turn it on. The sink, however, was another story. Silverware was gathered together in one glass, while plates and bowls were piled over the drain. With the sheer number of times dishes had been broken, almost nothing was part of a matched set anymore, and most of the team had their own designated tableware they had chosen.

None of your dishes were a part of this current collection of abstract kitchen art.

You ran warm water over the the dishes as you carefully scrubbed with a soapy sponge, muttering snippy commentary on aforementioned kitchen art ( _which had Wanda snickering from across the room_ ), when a glass bowl slipped from your soapy fingers and crashed to the floor. 

Jumping back, your bare feet just managed to escape the range of broken glass as they exploded across the floor. You sighed, biting back a string of expletives, and waited patiently for the dustpan that was being ferried to your location by Clint.

“That was your bowl.” Bucky pointed out. 

It was true. It was distinguishable from the rest by the chipped edge. The others were either intact, or ceramic, and therefore not glass.

As the archer began sweeping up the remnants of the bowl, you felt yourself being _lifted_ from the ground. Bucky swept you off the floor wordlessly, carried you away from the mess, and set you down on the counter’s edge.

“Did you step on any glass?” he asked. You shook your head, but he still checked nonetheless. 

“Really,” You insisted, “I’m fine.”

He looked unsure, but nodded. “I know.” 

* * *

The following days came and went smoothly. There were no more spider incidents, and the sink remained gloriously empty. Missions had been few and far between for months now, leaving training sessions and sparring as reliable workouts. Team exercises weren’t scheduled until the end of the week, which meant everyone paired off to spar, taking turns in the gym and simulation room.

Wanda was your sparring partner for the day, and the two of you chatted about trivial things while headed down to the gym. The door opened automatically as you approached, allowing you to continue your conversation. 

The sound of an in-progress sparring session greeted the two of you, and you paused, eyes falling upon the opponents. Or rather, _one_ of them. 

His techniques were methodical and practiced, some you didn’t recognize, and others you did. His maneuvers were flawless, to say the least. He moved swiftly and gracefully, evading blows and delivering plenty of his own.

Sweat glistened on his face from the exertion, and on his shoulders and chest. The scar tissue around his left shoulder looked less pronounced, than the last you saw. The metal curved like muscle, each panel moving almost invisibly in tune with the arm.

You felt a poke at your arm. Turning your gaze away, you saw Wanda glaring.

“What?” You whispered harshly.

“You’re oblivious!” She countered.

“…What?”

Wanda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Literally _everyone_ sees it but you. And maybe him.” She inclined her head toward Bucky, still engrossing in sparring with his best friend.

At your questioning look, she continued. “You like each other.”

“We’re friends, so I should hope we do.” You replied.

“You know exactly what I mean. Enough is enough, (Y/N), talk to him before the longing glances become too much for the rest of us to handle.” She smiled sweetly, turning and exiting the way you came. 

You looked back at Steve and Bucky, and found that they were long done. Steve scurried off to the locker room, and you wondered if he heard anything. Damn super soldier senses. Now you were alone with Bucky.

The panels on his arm shifted, from his shoulder to his wrist, and you could faintly hear an electric buzz accompany the movement. 

You took a deep breath and went over to talk to him.


End file.
